when crystal wants love

and that's okay

The worst part of being an extrovert is the fact that you aren’t exempt from being projected on. You think that being outgoing and speaking for yourself and giving people accurate information to go off is enough. But it’s not. People project onto the empty space that exists around you, an aura that you protrude that is so bright that no one can see the person in the center radiating it clearly anymore.

What if I’m talkative to cover up what I’m shy about? What if I’ve been hurt because people will still believe what they want to, perhaps check it even less so, because they think I have an abundance of people to focus on and get less scathed by interactions?

When you’re extroverted, you still notice things. You still observe patterns. You observe how your friends don’t initiate when you’re having a hard time, you see how your lovers will still turn their backs on you because they figure they need to be something they’re not to be with you, you worry every day that if you ever stopped working hard to take up space that no one would hand it to you. What if no one would remember you exist?

What if you’re a highly sensitive person who talks a lot? What if it’s home that you avoid because it represents a black hole inside your soul, one that you fill by wandering outside and journaling on the subway because you want so badly to not remember all the bad memories of every time someone hurt you? What if you want to take a break from all the baggage you’ve acquired from the thousands of people you’ve met over the years, but the only way you know how to take a break is to do more things?

What if you’re afraid to ever stop talking because otherwise you’d just notice no one hears you anyway?

I fiercely tell myself every day I feel bad, it will not be like this forever. One day, you will